Not Again
by NeverTickleASleepingDraco
Summary: Remember in chapter 8 of Fidelity when Peter mentions getting hit on the head with a book? Here's how. Don't read if you haven't read Fidelity.


**DISCLAIMER:**The character names of Chronicles of Narnia are owned by Douglas Gresham. The original content, ideas and intellectual property of this story are owned by NeverTickleASleepingDraco, 2011. Please do not copy, reproduce, or****translate****without express written permission.***

"Edmund," I growled angrily. Apparently, he had been in my work area, taking out and looking at my fabrics. Not to mention he put them all in the wrong place.

Way to tick me off, Ed!

They were all color coded, and put _neatly_in their place (Yes, I'm a clean freak) so since I had over a hundred different fabrics, it took a while.

"What happened to your fabrics?" an innocent voice asked. I turned around to face the youngest queen with a shocked face.

"Your damn brother that's what," I snarled again, placing fabrics in their _correct_places.

I heard her sigh, and faintly whisper, "Not again," before coming over to help me with the fabrics. "Why was he looking anyway?"

"I – that's a good question, Lu! I'll have to figure it out." For the next few hours until lunch, there we were at work organizing what Edmund messed up.

After we finished with that, I headed toward lunch and heard footsteps behind me. I turned around, and regretted it immediately. I sped up, hiding my face from the sunlight streaming in the windows above me. "Oh God, oh God, oh God," I muttered, angrily. Thankfully, I was good at ignoring people – except Lu and Will. If Edmund tried talking to me, I would just ignore him.

"Charlotte!" a voice called. I huffed and continued walking. I could hear the footsteps getting closer. I quickened my walk to a jog. "Charlotte, wait!" The footsteps were right behind me so I picked up my skirts and ran. "Charlotte!"

We ran down corridors, through doors, upstairs, through crowds of people. That was until I reached a dead-end corridor. I spun around and was prepared to run around him, until strong arms wrapped around my waist, restricting me from going anywhere.

"Charlotte. What's wrong?" I stayed silent. I was tempted to talk to him and tell him what he did. "Charlotte? Did I do something?" I sighed heavily and still remained silent. "I am a king. Answer me!"

I whirled around to face him angrily. "Look, I didn't answer you the first time, what makes you think I'm going to answer you this time?"

He smirked and he replied cheekily, "You just did." I growled and moved to walk past him. As I stalked away, Edmund followed complaining loudly.

"Charlotte, what did I do? C'mon tell me! Come on!" I still ignored him, and ignored him well into lunch.

I could only imagine what a pair we looked like. Me, storming into the room; Edmund, following yelling apologies and questions. As I sat down to eat, I stabbed at the boiled carrots angrily. My jaw was set, and I could see Edmund shooting apprehensive looks my way. I heard Peter mutter something that sounded like, "Not again."

Susan, obviously, sensed the tension between us. She threw down her fork and stood up pointing to Edmund and then me. "Charlotte, Edmund, come with me. Now!"

And I wonder why they call her the Gentle.

We followed the livid queen as if we were children and she shoved us into a room together – alone. Smart move, Susan. You won't have a brother tomorrow.

I realized we were in the library, so I went over to one of the window seats and stared at the glittering ocean waves down below me. How I wished I could be down there instead of stuck in this room with Edmund.

I could hear Edmund whistling and shuffling through books and I recognized the tune of the song to be one that I found extremely irritating. And Edmund knew it.

Finally, I couldn't take it anymore and I snapped. "Will you stop?" I snarled.

Edmund laughed and said, "So she speaks."

I scowled and clenched my fists. "Shut up." He gets on my last nerves! Ugh!

"You just told a king to shut up, girl." Edmund turned from the sarcastic boy, to the cold, lethal king we've all heard so much about. His face turned from a smirk to a scowl and his eyes were cold as steel. My face was set as his was, and I stood up to stand face-to-nose with him. Hey, I may be short but I'm fierce.

"I have a name," I said, low and menacing.

"Is it ignorant brat?" I raised my hand and made a move to backhand him across his kingly face. As it was moving, Edmund's hand flew up and caught my wrist. "I am sick and tired of you getting angry at me and then not telling me why!"

Words cannot describe how angry I was at the moment. I glowered at him and roughly pulled my hand from his grip - or tried to, anyway. "How can you be so dense? 'Did I do something?' Of course you did you bloody idiot! You messed up my fabrics!"

Suddenly, Edmund started laughing. I gaped at him in disbelief. How is this funny? Within the minute, Edmund was laughing full-out clutching his stomach. "You're mad at _that_?"

I groaned and stomped out of the library, Edmund following suit. As I fumed down the hallway, Edmund insisted on "la la la"ing the tune of the song I positively HATED.

As we wound through the corridors being...well, ourselves, I noticed a few of the servants either gave us odd looks, or started whispering to the person nearest to them. The latter were usually women.

I finally found myself in front of my door and I breathed a sigh of relief. Yet I should've known that a simple oak door wouldn't keep Edmund from me. Wait that sounded weird. I should've known that a simple oak door wouldn't keep Edmund from _annoying_me.

I slammed my door in Edmund's singing face and slid down the other side. _"La la la la la..."_Edmund's voice croaked. It wasn't worthy to be called singing.

"SHUT. UP," I hissed. I stood up, locked the door behind me. I ran over and jumped on the bed face-down. I screamed into my pillow in frustration.

An hour later, I heard yelling outside my door. I could tell it was Susan yelling.

A second later, a knock came to my door. "Come in!" I yelled. Susan came in wearing a smile on her face, though her eyes told me she was furious. I raised my eyebrows. "Hello Susan," I said suspiciously.

"Hello Charlotte. How are you?" Susan's voice was dripped with honey so I knew I was about to get yelled at.

"Infuriated." I stood up and crossed my arms.

"I can tell." She lost her kind look and turned to desperate. "What was it this time?"

And so, I blew up. "Your idiot brother messed up my work space! Wrecked it! I had no idea where anything was!"

"Not again!" Susan whined. "Honestly, when will you two stop?"

"When pigs fly," I snorted. I was actually kind of proud of that. Susan scowled at me.

"I'm considering sending you two to a counselor! You fight all the time! Have we ever had a peaceful day here? I don't think so!" She was gesturing animatedly with her hands and I grabbed her wrists (gently) and forced her to stop.

"Susan," I started calmly. "Edmund and I will never stop fighting. Ever. Whatever you, Lu, and Peter think we will never stop fighting. What if we do get married? We still won't stop fighting. So, for your sanity, don't try and stop us."

Susan sighed in defeat. She dropped her wrists and looked at me apologetically. "You're right. I'm sorry." She gave me a genuine smile and turned to leave the room. As she reached the door, she turned back and said, "Just...try not to do anything stupid." I laughed and waved her out of my room.

Well, at least I didn't get yelled at.

The next day, I knocked on Peter's study. "Come in!" his voice rang. I opened the door and saw him hunched over a piece of parchment, quill in hand. He looked up. "Hello Charlotte!"

"Hey Pete. Um, I was wondering if..." I trailed off, wringing a piece of fabric between my hands. "I was wondering if you could tell me what annoys Edmund most?" I said this with almost no spaces in between my words.

He looked utterly confused.

"What?" He stood up and walked to stand in front of me. "Say it slower."

"Could you tell me what annoys Edmund most? He wrecked my work space and I wanted to get back at him by wrecking something of his. If you would let me do it. Please?"

Peter started laughing. "What annoys him the most? Besides you?" I glared at him. "Well, probably when someone messes up his books." He leaned in to whisper in my ear, "I jump at any chance to make my brother furious." I bit my lip and giggled. I walked over to the door ready to leave, when I remembered something.

"Um, Peter?" He looked up from his work. "Where's his study?"

About a hundred books later, my plan was complete. The mystery novels were in the nonfiction section, the nonfiction in the adventure, and the adventure in the romance. I had paused when I'd gotten to this part. Why did he even _have_a romance section? I giggled, but stopped when boots clacked on the marble floor outside the door. I heard them stop and voices conversed outside. I slipped out the door, closed it quietly, and hid around a corner.

Edmund walked into his room and a few seconds later: "CHARLOTTE!" I laughed and walked into his study, leaning against the door frame.

"Yeees?" I smirked and twiddled a strand of hair between my thumb and forefinger.

His nostrils flared and his eyes were pure black. "You messed up my books!" He pointed an accusing finger at me.

I pointed to myself and looked behind me. "Who, me?" This only inflamed his anger. "Why assume it was me?" I started laughing to myself. He took three steps closer until he was right in front of me. I bit back a giggle.

"Of course it was you, bloody idiot! Who else would want to mess up my books? Just because I messed up your _stupid fabrics-"_

"Ha! So you admit it, then!" I interrupted. He went right on.

" – doesn't give you a right to mess up my books!"

"First of all, my fabrics are as precious to me as your books are to you! Second of all, I had every right! Ever heard of 'Rule of Revenge?'" Of course he hadn't. I'd just made it up on the spot. "And lastly, why do you have a romance section?"

He blushed and stuttered out a response. "Susan didn't have any room left for hers."

"Yeah, whatever, _love_," I mocked.

The door flew open and there stood Peter, giving me a look that said, "I can't believe you actually did that." I shrugged.

I grabbed a book from the shelf and started to read. "_Thy lips be as red as cherries. Thy eyes peer into my soul. Thy soul – "_ Edmund made a snatch for the book. I tried to hold it above my head, but instead it flew out of my hands and onto Peter's forehead. He howled in pain and clutched at it; a bit of red trickled through. "Oh my gosh! Peter! I'm so sorry! I swear to Aslan I didn't mean to!"

Peter manage to whisper a, "Not again," before slipping into unconsciousness before we started to fight again.

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**Hannah. x**


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